


reminisce before we forget

by lockwoodstie (PilotInTheStars)



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Cafes, Dating, F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Proposals, The Zeek Fic, Traveling, University, Wedding, Your Favorite Ghost Nerds, the necklace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-11-22 05:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20869007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilotInTheStars/pseuds/lockwoodstie
Summary: (likely discontinued)Love was slow for them.It flowed like a gentle stream in the woods. It appeared like stars during the trailing ends of a sunset. It bloomed like roses in May.Yet it seemed fast to them all the same.





	1. i

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a boatload of feelings about Celia and Donald Lockwood and decided to write all about how they first met. It was supposed to be a decently short fic. Then it grew into a monster of a fic. 
> 
> I'm now planning for it to be multiple chapters, likely four or five altogether, depending on where there are natural pauses in the story. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone on the Lockwood and Co. Discord! Every day I'm grateful that I joined. This is for you, and anyone who, like me, got way too attached to Celia and Donald Lockwood. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Celia got lost on her way to the lecture hall. When she finally arrived, with only about two and a half minutes to spare, there was only one seat left.

That last part might have been a lie; there were a couple of seats up near the front, but that would mean having to cross the whole room, and the lecture was about to start anyway. Mapping out where her lecture was beforehand would have been smart, but it was too late now.

She walked over and took up an empty seat towards the back of the room and set her things down in front of her. The girl to her right didn’t look up. There was a young man sitting to her left, immersed in what he was doing until she sat down her things and startled him. His dark eyes met hers for a moment.

Celia was about to say “sorry” but opened her mouth right as the professor started. She gave an apologetic smile, which he returned, and she turned to her notes.

It went normally- as normal as someone’s first lecture could go. But before the professor had truly finished, the young man sitting next to her, the one she had accidentally startled when she had slammed down her things, and glanced over at her small desk yet again, particularly at the book she had balanced on it next to her paper. He hesitated, tore off a tiny piece of his notes, then scribbled something on a scrap of paper, folded it in half, and placed it next to her hand.

She stared at it for a moment and picked it up. She unfolded the paper and found, in the most immaculate handwriting she had ever seen:

_Sorry to ask- what book are you reading?_

Celia slipped the book out from underneath the stack of papers so he could see the title on the spine and picked up her pencil, quickly scribbling a reply. 

_Have you read it before?_

He wrote back: 

_No, I haven’t. Sounds interesting though._

Celia had picked up her pencil to write a reply when everyone started to put away their things. 

“It’s actually my third time reading it,” she said to him as he stood up. “Marissa Fittes’ _Memoirs_. It’s pretty good- I like it.” __

“I’ll have to try to read it sometime.” He gave her another smile and extended a hand. “I’m Donald Lockwood. It’s nice to meet you.” 

She took it and grinned back. “Celia Baker. It’s nice to meet you too.”

They both walked to the door together and walked outside. The clouds in the sky looked like cotton dipped in ash, a steady rain about to fall from the sky. 

“I think you could find _Memoirs_ in the library.” Celia looked up at him. “I assume they’d have it there. I brought my copy from home.” __

“I’ll look for it, definitely.” 

She looked up at the sky, then turned back to him and grinned. “It was nice meeting you, Donald.” 

He smiled at her. “It was nice meeting you too.” They went their separate ways. 

* * *

Donald found Marissa Fittes’ _Memoirs_ one day in the library and read through the whole thing in two days. __

Ghosts had intrigued Donald ever since he was young, when grown-ups spoke in hushed voices about the spirits and wraiths that roamed the night. He was a child when the Problem was beginning to manifest into something few could deny. But when fear found its place in others’ hearts, a strange fascination found its place in his. 

When Donald and Patrick, his older brother, were away at boarding school, he was notorious for staying up late and reading all sorts of newspaper articles and stories about ghosts across England. Somehow Memoirs hadn’t ever come up in his light research before, but yet again, it wasn’t at the boarding school’s library. 

Patrick had teased him for it. 

“You have your head in the clouds, Don,” Patrick had said one day, during his last year before he graduated. 

“Perhaps” was all Donald could reply. 

Perhaps his head was in the clouds after all. That’s what their mother had said too, before everything happened. 

Donald flipped to the last page of _Memoirs_ for the second time. That read of the book had gone much quicker the second time around. __

He knew how he felt about it all. But, if he was going to admit it to himself, he did care what Celia Baker thought. 

What had gotten into his head, he didn’t know. But he wanted to speak with her again- that is, if she wanted to talk to him again. 

He was a bit over the moon, and if he was over the moon, then his head was certainly in the clouds. 

* * *

“Who were you talking to at the end of class?”

Celia looked up from her notes. “I don’t know. Someone who was sitting next to me.”

Maria, her friend, gave her a look. “Had you just met him?”

“Yes- his name was Donald. He was wondering what book I was reading.”

Maria nodded and looked out the window. Her fingers fiddled with the handle of her teacup. Celia returned to her notes.

“Don’t you think that is a little strange?”

“Because he asked me what book I was reading?” Celia considered it for a moment. “I don’t know. Maria, I’ve been trying to get you to read _Memoirs_ for a while now. I’m happy to get any person to read it.”__

“I don’t care for ghost stories that much.”

That was certainly true, that certainly wasn’t Maria’s first choice of book to read. If she could ignore the Problem and everything surrounding it, she would. Her friend gazed at Celia for a moment. "Why do you want to know them so badly?"

_ __ _

“We’re surrounded by ghost stories. I just want to understand them.” Celia sighed and stood up. “Do you have Choco Leibniz? I forgot to get more.”

_ __ _

Maria pointed to the cabinet behind her. “In there.”

_ __ _

Celia stood up and found the package in the cabinets as Maria watched.

_ __ _

“You know, I’m quite glad to know your taste in biscuit hasn’t changed.”

_ __ _

“I like to think I’m fairly similar to the person you left a couple years ago.”

_ __ _

They had been neighbors since forever, back in the town they grew up in. Maria was a few years older than Celia, and had left for university a few years earlier. She was close to graduating but had planned to stay in London in her tiny flat. When Celia wrote to her and mentioned that she was also coming for school, Maria offered to split the price with her.

_ __ _

Celia happily took up that offer, and packed her bags. Her grandmother was supportive, she always had been. But there was a fear there too.

_ __ _

She gave Celia a box full of iron charms before she left, and lavender to put in her bags. There was one particular conversation they had, the day before she left, that Celia couldn’t put out of her mind.

_ __ _

“Do you remember Katherine, Celia?”

_ __ _

Celia had looked up from her book and across the living room to her grandmother, sitting in her chair.

_ __ _

“I remember. She was Maria and I’s friend.”

_ __ _

She hadn’t thought of Katherine in ages. But in all honesty, she didn’t want to.

_ __ _

“She went to London a long time ago,” her grandmother had continued. “How old were you?”

_ __ _

“I don’t remember. Probably eight or nine. That’s when you can start training to be an agent, I think.” Celia opened up her book, but the words on the page were just incoherent now after the mention of Katherine.

_ __ _

Her grandmother returned to her needlepoint. “She had Talent.”

_ __ _

Celia nodded and looked to the windowsill, where a lavender candle had just recently been lit. The smell permeated everything.

_ __ _

“Yes,” Celia said. “She never came back.” Ghost touch. That’s what the report had come back to say. The whispers from that funeral still lingered in her ears.

_ __ _

There was a beat and Celia set down her book and excused herself to the kitchen. She suddenly couldn’t stand the smell of that candle.

_ __ _

Another story from her grandmother to, on an ironic note, scare her away from ghosts.

_ __ _

Maria sighed and got up from their kitchen table, placing her mug next to the sink and startling Celia out of her thoughts. “I’ll do the dishes when I get back. Don’t be wild.”

_ __ _

Celia rolled her eyes. “What do you expect me to do?”

_ __ _

“Something that only Celia Baker would do.” Maria stepped into her shoes and buttoned her coat. She looked into the mirror and turned back to her friend. “See you soon.”

_ __ _

“Get home before dark.”

_ __ _

Maria didn’t respond for a moment. “The sun isn’t going to set for a long while.”

_ __ _

“But it’ll set eventually.”

_ __ _

“And when it sets, I’ll already be back at home. I’m just going for a walk.” She opened the door and waved bye. The heavy door shut with a bang.

_ __ _

Celia turned back to her notes as Maria left. How many times had she read over them? Certainly she’d read them enough.

_ __ _

She looked to the stack of books she had set next to her. Marissa Fittes’ _Memoirs_ sat patiently. She wondered when she’d get the chance to talk to Donald Lockwood about it.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

* * *

_ __ _

It was getting colder now, and the chill had its own bite, an excuse to stay inside, where it was warmer and safe. But, it was an even better excuse to meet some friends at the cafe nearby.

_ __ _

More specifically, Maria’s friends. Celia had been dragged along to meet the lot of them. She liked socializing, certainly, and meeting people, but she had the beginnings of a headache, and loud environments did not mix well with the light pounding in the back of her head.

_ __ _

It was mid-afternoon, still a bit before the sun was going to set. The final hours, where everyone bustled about in the golden light and tried to get the last of their errands or visiting done before curfew fell upon them all and the spirits rose up from the ground.

_ __ _

Maria opened the door and they walked in together. It was surprisingly quiet in the cafe, but Maria’s eyes lit up after she scanned the room and caught sight of her friends. Two men and two women sat there. Celia vaguely recognized one of the girls- perhaps she knew her face from a class or somewhere else. She didn’t know the other girl and the man who was partially facing her from the round table.

_ __ _

But one of the men had his back turned to her. And she instantly knew who it was.

_ __ _

Celia turned to Maria. “You know him?”

_ __ _

Maria gave her a smile. “I thought _you_ just barely knew him.”__

Celia couldn’t help but flush and Maria placed her hand on Celia’s shoulder. 

_ __ _

“I actually only know his friend. James wanted to invite Donald and I said sure. Maybe you can finally talk to him about that book.” 

_ __ _

“Perhaps,” Celia said to herself as Maria said “hello” and took a seat, immediately starting up a conversation. The spot next to Donald remained vacant and Celia took it. 

_ __ _

Donald looked up from his tea and Celia couldn’t help but notice the tops of his ears turning bright pink. 

_ __ _

She smiled at him and he smiled back. 

_ __ _

“It’s nice to see you again,” Celia said. 

_ __ _

“It’s nice to see you too.” 

_ __ _

Her mind blanked. Celia tapped her foot. What in the world did she say next? 

_ __ _

“How have you been recently?” That was a safe point for conversation. Hopefully. 

_ __ _

Donald considered it for a moment. “I suppose I’ve been alright. Busy, of course, but I’m sure you are too.” 

_ __ _

“All the time,” she replied. 

Celia took a glance over at Maria, who was still engaged in conversation with the friend to her left. Celia still hadn’t learned her name. Maria must have noticed this. Her foot nudged Celia’s for a moment. 

_Keep talking to him. _

So Celia turned back to him, but in that short time the conversation had drifted and she didn’t know how to join in. 

_ __ _

But as winters continued, the nights got shorter. Maria always seemed to forget that. The owner of the cafe apologized, but with the nights getting shorter and spirits coming around sooner, he needed to close up shop. 

_ __ _

Together, Maria and Celia stepped out of the cafe. The streets were a bit of a mad dash. Maria glanced in Celia’s direction as she gave Donald a wave. He gave a small wave back. 

_ __ _

“Did you ask him about the book?” 

_ __ _

And Celia finally remembered what she was supposed to ask in the first place. A flush- whether it was embarrassment or just frustration with herself, she didn’t know. 

_ __ _

“No. I just never got around to it.” 

_ __ _

* * *

_ __ _

A couple more weeks had passed since that chance encounter. Classes continued and nothing changed much in London- it was the typical hustle and bustle of the city. The nights got longer and the days got shorter, and that typical fear of the coming winter had begun to strike.

_ __ _

Celia Baker always managed to be one of the first people at the lecture hall. It was admirable for sure, and unexpected considering she was almost late for her first lecture in that class, but all the seats by her would fill up and Donald knew that the weirdest thing he could have done was also get there early to talk about it with her.

_ __ _

That would have been absolutely strange, and the absolute last thing he wanted to do was appear strange. Not a good way to make friends in the slightest.

_ __ _

A friend invited Donald to study at the library one Saturday afternoon, rain drizzling from the gray sky. He did just that and found a table in a corner, setting down his pile of books. He opened a book and tried to focus, occasionally looking up to glance at the time. His friend was nowhere in sight.

_ __ _

He shut the book perhaps a little too harshly. It would be lovely if his friend had actually followed through with the plan they had made.

_ __ _

But he was here now, so he might as well finish what he came here to do. One more glance at his watch and a glance at the ceiling, and he went to turn back to what he was reading, but someone caught his eye.

_ __ _

Celia Baker was sitting across the room, her nose in her notes.

_ __ _

He felt his spirits immediately lift and his heart sink to his feet at the same time. He was not expecting to see her here. But maybe that was a good thing, he could get the chance to speak to her about Memoirs. He had really enjoyed it, after all.

_ __ _

Donald went to get up, and then realized what he was doing and sat back down.

_ __ _

But going up and saying hello after the one time they spoken might be strange as well. Maybe she had just meant that in a polite way to continue their conversation, and actually didn’t want to talk about it.

_ __ _

His eyes flickered from the clock on the wall to the books and back to Celia. The process repeated multiple times.

_ __ _

It would probably be best if he just left her alone. He opened his book again and set the idea of that conversation loose. He wouldn’t think about it again.

_ __ _

There was quiet for a few moments, his eyes processing the words but his mind not comprehending them, until someone dropped their things by the seat across from him. Donald looked up and startled to see Celia standing right there, her dark eyes looking down at him.

_ __ _

“I know what you’re doing.”

_ __ _

“I- uh, what?”

_ __ _

She placed a hand on the chair. “I keep seeing you glance over in my direction. I’m not an idiot.”

_ __ _

“I don’t recall-”

_ __ _

“Funny, because I recall you doing that.”

_ __ _

Celia pulled out the chair and sat down in it. “You keep avoiding me in the lecture hall.”

_ __ _

“There were a dozen other empty seats.”

_ __ _

“I certainly wouldn’t have minded if you sat next to me.”

_ __ _

Celia organized her things. “We have a book to discuss. Did you read it?”

_ __ _

“Oh, uh, Memoirs?” Donald asked.

_ __ _

Celia nodded, her dark eyes peering into his.

_ __ _

“Twice through. I really enjoyed it.”

_ __ _

She smiled, that radiant one that could certainly light up a thousand dark nights. “I hoped you’d like it. I’ve always found it interesting- ghosts and all that. My grandmother thinks it is all nonsense.” She shrugged and opened a book.

_ __ _

“I don’t think it is nonsense,” Donald said quietly.

_ __ _

Celia looked up at him. “Are you just saying that?”

_ __ _

“I’m not just saying that. I’ve always found them fascinating too.”

_ __ _

“And you aren’t lying to me?”

_ __ _

“I’m not. Ask my brother, he’ll confirm it for you.”

_ __ _

Celia smiled again. “I’ll have to sometime.” Her eyes darted to the clock. “I’m afraid I have to cut our discussion short.” But she didn’t move.

_ __ _

“Where do you have to go?”

_ __ _

“To class.” She closed her book and put it in her bag. “But I’m waiting.”

_ __ _

Donald blinked. “For what?”

_ __ _

“For you to actually ask me out.”

_ __ _

He felt a flush rise to his face. “I didn’t-.” He cleared his throat. “Would you like to go out sometime?”

_ __ _

Celia grinned a big, bright smile. “I’d love to. Here or somewhere else?”

_ __ _

“How about we meet outside the library.” His mind did mental gymnastics for a moment, trying to figure out what else to say. “I know a place we can go. We could walk there.”

_ __ _

“Would two work for you?”

_ __ _

“I can work with two.” She smiled and stood up with her things. “Meet you here?”

_ __ _

“Meet you here,” he confirmed.

_ __ _

Celia left and Donald sat in a stunned silence before he tried to casually continue with what he was doing.

_ __ _

* * *

_ __ _

_What the hell had she just done?_

Celia truly didn’t know. She went to class, did what she had to do, and walked to her and Maria’s flat in a daze. The adrenaline from it all pulsed through her, and her head felt light. 

_ __ _

Maria, who had known her since forever, could tell when something had happened. She crossed her arms. 

_ __ _

“I asked Donald out.” 

_ __ _

Maria’s eyes widened. 

_ __ _

“Well, actually, I asked when he was going to ask me on a date. And he did.” 

_ __ _

“I think we’ve all been waiting.” 

_ __ _

Celia dropped her bag by the chair at the desk. “You’ve been waiting ever since we met at that cafe a few weeks ago.” 

_ __ _

“Maybe.” Maria stood up and gave her a hug. “Everything is going to be alright. I promise. When is it?” 

_ __ _

“Tomorrow. At 2. He said he knows a place we can go.” 

_ __ _

Maria smiled at her. “I know you’ll have a great time. Just remember to breathe every once in a while.” 

_ __ _

Celia nodded, and there was no more mention of the date for the rest of the evening. They made dinner and ate it together. She did work for class and went to bed. 

_ __ _

Somehow her grandmother’s words came to mind. 

_ __ _

_Something good may come out of it. You never know until you go. _

Perhaps something truly wonderful would come out of tomorrow. She ought to give her grandmother a call. 

_ __ _

* * *

_ __ _

Celia went to a phone booth the next morning and called her grandmother, who wished her the best of luck with everything.

_ __ _

That Saturday morning was otherwise pretty lazy. They both stayed home as people left their flats and went out and about in the sunshine. The clock’s hands ambled closer and closer to two.

_ __ _

A cool breeze brushed by as Celia left the building and walked to the library.

_ __ _

_Remember to breathe._

She wanted it to go well. Hopefully her impulsiveness wouldn’t be the death of her. 

_ __ _

Donald stood outside the library, in that coat he always wore. He wore a scarf. He saw her walk up and gave her a smile. 

_ __ _

Celia smiled back. 

_ __ _

“It’s nice to see you again,” Donald said. “You look really lovely.”

_ __ _

“You do too.” 

_ __ _

They stared at each other for a moment, not exactly sure what to say. Her mind did a quick leap. 

_ __ _

“Where was the place you wanted to go to?” 

_ __ _

“Do you know the park near here?” 

_ __ _

“I think so.” 

_ __ _

“I thought, since it is probably one of the last somewhat nice days out, perhaps we could take a walk there. If it’s alright with you, of course.” 

“I think that sounds perfect.” 

_ __ _

Donald led the way. The wind picked up a tiny bit, and the breeze was cold. Celia pulled her coat tighter around herself. 

_ __ _

“Are you from London originally?” she asked. 

_ __ _

“I am. You?” 

_ __ _

“No, I live a little bit east of here. But not far from the city.” She looked up at him. Donald was obviously thinking about something, Celia could see it in his eyes. 

_ __ _

“Your flatmate is Maria, right?” he asked. “You walked in with her at the cafe a few weeks ago.” 

_ __ _

“She is.” The rainshower from the night before had left a puddle. Celia didn't see it, but Donald, however, noticed. 

_ __ _

“Careful.” 

_ __ _

He extended a hand and she took it, stepping around the puddle. Their hands dropped right after. 

_ __ _

The park was around the corner- Celia had seen it before on one of her walks to the store. It was pleasantly busy, people enjoying the fine weather and doing whatever they pleased. 

_ __ _

They sat down on the bench in the sunshine together. 

_ __ _

“So… _Memoirs_,” Celia began. “What do you think?” __

“It was fascinating. I read it twice. I’m not sure how it had never come up in my readings before.” He took a glance at her. “I assume you’ve read it plenty of times.” 

_ __ _

“Maria gave it to me when we were younger. Back home- where we grew up. I’ve always found ghosts to be fascinating. I just want to understand them. Most people don’t get that, though. But I get why. 

_ __ _

“My grandmother dislikes my obsession.” Celia looked away from his gaze and shrugged. “She always tells me that she knew a time before the Problem. It was better back then.” 

_ __ _

Donald nodded. “It likely was.” His eyes met hers. “But the world is always changing. And this is just the way it went.” 

_ __ _

He fiddled with his coat sleeve. “I actually saw spirits as a child.” 

_ __ _

Celia’s eyes widened. 

_ __ _

“Really?” she said softly. 

_ __ _

“I didn’t have any Talent that was really special. I don’t think so at least. One evening as we were closing the windows and getting the house ready for the night, my brother-Patrick, I think I mentioned him to you earlier- and I saw the Night Watch kids in the street.” 

_ __ _

He hesitated for a moment. “I asked my mother if I could join them. Childhood naivety at its finest.” 

_ __ _

Celia nodded. “It happens. We’ve all had moments like that. Where do your parents live?” 

_ __ _

Donald shook his head. “They’ve both passed on.” 

_ __ _

Celia felt her heart drop to the ground. “Oh. I’m so sorry.” 

_ __ _

“It’s fine- I like to think they are in a better place now. Wherever they are. The world doesn’t offer many answers, unfortunately.” He gave her a smile. “How about your family?” 

_ __ _

“My grandmother raised me- my mother didn’t have a great relationship with hers to begin with. I have other relatives, but it was really just the two of us.” She grinned at him. “I love her. She doesn’t approve of my strange obsessions, but it’s alright.” 

_ __ _

They looked out upon the park, at all the people enjoying the last bit of autumn sunshine, before the winter and longer nights that they all feared. Families and couples and individuals, all out together. 

_ __ _

Celia turned her head and grinned at him. Donald turned his head as well and smiled back. 

_ __ _

“Thank you for coming up to me at the library yesterday. I’m not sure I would have ever gone up to you if you hadn’t done it first.” 

_ __ _

“Perhaps my impulsiveness is good for something, then. My grandmother will be pleased to hear.”> 

_ __ _

“Impulsiveness isn’t always a bad thing.” Donald stood up, hands in his pockets. “I actually know a place further in the park, if you’d like to walk there. Or, we can stay here. I just wondered if you wanted to go there too.” 

_ __ _

Celia stood up. “I’d love to see.” 

_ __ _

There was another winding path in the park, just like he said, and they took it. They were quieter this time, enjoying the scenery, talking about the small things. 

_ __ _

But curfew was creeping up on them. 

_ __ _

“I assume we should probably get back,” Donald said. 

_ __ _

“Likely. Wouldn’t want to get stuck outside late at night.” 

_ __ _

And yet, they certainly took their merry time as he walked her back to her flat, with her leading the way. They got there - she looked up and saw the light on in her and Maria’s flat - and she hopped up a step and turned around. 

_ __ _

“Thank you so much for everything today, Donald.” She beamed at him and even in the low light of almost-dusk, she could have sworn he blushed a bit. “I had a great time.” 

_ __ _

“I did as well. Thank you coming with me.” He cleared his throat. “And thank you for yesterday.” 

_ __ _

Celia nodded. “Thank you for yesterday too. And today.” 

_ __ _

The world hummed around them for a second, and finally Donald said: 

_ __ _

“Would you like to meet me at that cafe sometime next week? Where we met with friends a couple weeks back.” 

_ __ _

Celia did not need another second to think about it. “Of course. Wednesday at noon?” 

_ __ _

“I can work with that.” Donald smiled at her. “I hope you have a pleasant evening.” 

_ __ _

“You too. Get home safe.” 

_ __ _

He nodded, a smile still on his lips. She watched as he left, giving a small goodbye “wave”, which she happily returned. He got to the corner of the street and turned left, disappearing. 

_ __ _

Celia, somehow, in all of her dazed thoughts, found her way up the stairs, found the keys in her coat pocket, and opened the door to her and Maria’s flat, where she found her best friend waiting. 

_ __ _

* * *

_ __ _

Donald was certainly late getting home that night. He walked as fast as he could to his flat, helped by the pure giddiness that he felt.

_ __ _

The ghost lamps, recently checked for technical issues last week, were already on, blinking against the night by the time he got to his flat.

_ __ _

He crashed at the tiny table in of the wooden chairs, his mind replaying all the events that had just happened. He needed to sleep - he’d been tossing and turning all night worried about it.

_ __ _

Donald smiled to himself. But it had gone well, even when his mind assumed that the worst would happen. His mind was racing and he doubted he could concentrate on his work now.

_ __ _

He wrote and read what he needed to, but his mind kept drifting to the day he had just had.

_ __ _

His head was in the clouds and his heart was absolutely, completely over the moon.

_ __ _

* * *

_ __ _

Love was slow for them.

_ __ _

It flowed like a gentle stream in the woods. It appeared like stars during the trailing ends of a sunset. It bloomed like roses in May.

_ __ _

Yet it seemed fast to them all the same.

_ __ _

The months passed them by in a blur, filled with work and learning, but getting to know each other.

_ __ _

Hours in cafes and at the library and in the park. Whenever they could make time for each other. They sat and talked or read together all the time and there were too many conversations to count.

_ __ _

And love was a truly wonderful feeling.

_ __ _

It was a morning date, at Donald’s flat. He made tea for her and they enjoyed each other’s company as the day started. There were a dozen things to do later, but the peace of the moment was something to cherish.

_ __ _

Donald had bought a book full of maps last week- that morning was his first chance to actually gaze through it- and he was carefully surveying the pages when Celia pulled up a chair close to him, their shoulders pressed and the sides of their legs pressed together. Empty mugs sat on the table.

_ __ _

It was all quiet conversation, pencils scratching lightly against the paper.

_ __ _

“Celia, love?”

_ __ _

She looked up. Their eyes met. Time stopped for just that moment.

_ __ _

“Yes?”

_ __ _

Donald’s eyes were warm and flecked with light. He was still.

_ __ _

“I think… I forgot what I was going to say.”

_ __ _

Celia shrunk back a little bit, wondering if she was too close. Donald didn’t change.

_ __ _

He made her feel all fuzzy inside, and she couldn’t quite explain what it was.

_ __ _

But she felt like she might melt from happiness whenever he looked at her like that.

_ __ _

“May I kiss you?” Celia asked softly.

_ __ _

Donald nodded and Celia leaned forward and kissed him. It was a bit of a mess and somehow perfect all the same. Pressed together in the kitchen chairs, with morning sunshine blaring through the window.

_ __ _

His hand was tangled in her hair and her arms were wrapped tight around his neck. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to let go.

_ __ _

But they had to, eventually. Donald took a glance towards the clock.

_ __ _

“I think you’re going to be late to your lecture.”

_ __ _

Celia took a glance towards the clock on the wall.

_ __ _

“Perhaps.” She turned back to him. She felt herself flush at the realization of what had just happened. “I might need to get going.”

_ __ _

She stood up and gathered her things. Donald stood up as well, and walked over to pick up her coat from where she had thrown it over the back of a chair. He handed it to her and she put it on.

_ __ _

“Thank you.” She looked up and their eyes met.

_ __ _

“I’m sorry for my reaction there,” Donald said sheepishly, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Not the best thing I could have said.”

_ __ _

“It’s perfectly fine. I didn’t think that through- I’m sorry about that.”

_ __ _

“Mind if I try again?”

_ __ _

“I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

_ __ _

They met in the middle. His hands on her waist and her hands on his shoulders. It was gentle and warm, like the light from the sun they were so desperately missing in these winter months.

_ __ _

She ended up being incredibly late to class.

_ __ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3


	2. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this the sappiest thing I've ever written? If it isn't, then it certainly in the Top 5. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience over the past month and a half as I worked on Chapter 2. I'm pretty proud of it, and I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Thank you of course to the Lockwood and Co Discord, for being amazing and so supportive. <3
> 
> Trigger warnings for a minor character death and scene with implied sex.

Donald introduced Celia to his brother, Patrick, when he came to visit in early spring.

It was beyond obvious that they were both brothers- between their appearances and mannerisms and the way they interacted with each other. They were clearly close.

“It’s nice to meet you, Celia.” Patrick had smiled and shook her hand. “Don mentions you a lot.”

Donald went on a trip for two months with his brother during that summer. They went to many places in the East- Celia had the full list and still lost track. The brothers returned right before classes started up again. 

He sent letters when he could. Celia kept them in a box that sat next to her bed and read every one over and over and over again, when her heart missed him the most. Celia took a visit to her grandmother. She and Maria spent plenty of evenings after curfew together, laughing over old stories and drinking perhaps a little too much wine. She read her way through a stack of books she had been meaning to get through, fiction and not.

When Donald returned, Celia met him at the train station. They saw each other, one pair of eyes meeting the other, and Celia couldn’t help but smile as she saw him. They found each other amidst a sea of people. 

They held each other for just a moment, but it felt like it lasted forever. 

“I missed you,” Celia said softly. 

“I missed you too.”

“Was the trip alright?”

“It was absolutely wonderful. But I missed you, of course.”

Her heart fluttered, and she looked up at him for a moment. _So that’s what was different._

_ __ _

“Donald, are you growing a mustache?”

Patrick made his presence known from where he stood nearby, and he rolled his eyes. “Please don’t mention it, Celia. Some idea he got in his head.”

“It’s certainly strange.” She stood on her tip toes and kissed him. It really had been too long. He was here now, but her heart still ached with how much she had missed him.

They let go for a moment, and he took a step back. Something lit up on his face, like he had forgotten something he had meant to do. “I have something for you,” he said hurriedly, and quickly searched the pockets of his jacket for whatever he was looking for. He pulled out a small, velvet box.

“For you.”

Celia stared at him for a moment. “What’s this?”

“I found something for you while traveling. Then had it made into something else. Hard to explain.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that, dear.”

“It reminded me of you, love.” Donald placed the box in her hand and returned his own hands to his pockets. She opened it carefully.

A sapphire, blue as blue could be, sat patiently on a golden chain. It glittered in the bright light. 

“I found this while Patrick and I were traveling. I wanted to bring it back for you.”

“Oh, Donald,” Celia said softly. “It’s beautiful.” 

And suddenly, a lot of things made sense. 

“I love you so much, Celia.”

The world fell still for a moment. She looked up at him.

“I love you so much, too.”

He would walk her to her apartment later, and tell her everything he couldn’t tell her before. About everything that happened during the trip, and all the adventures he’d be on. 

“It sounds like a wonderful time.”

“It was. I only wish you could have went with us, love.”

“Perhaps I will someday.” Celia pivoted to face him. “You never did tell me where you found this.”

Donald was quiet for a moment. “I found it somewhere, can’t remember exactly, perhaps I wrote it down.” He looked up at the ceiling of the hallway. “I just saw it and it reminded me of you. So I got it.”

Celia reached up to the necklace and felt herself flush. “I love it. Thank you so much, Donald.”

They reached her and Maria’s apartment door, and they pulled each other into an embrace once again.

“I’d do anything for you, love.” Donald gave her one more kiss. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll meet you in the library if you’d like.”

“That sounds perfect.”

She kissed him again, not quite wanting to let go. They didn’t say goodbye, but interlocked fingers one last time.

_One last I love you.___

_ __ _

* * *

_ __ _

A month or two later, Maria left town for the week to travel around with another close friend of hers, leaving Celia alone at their flat. 

It was quieter than normal, with it just being her. She spent time on work and read what she needed to for class, but, as she sat there all alone, she wanted to talk to someone. 

Celia wasn’t supposed to see Donald until tomorrow. They were going to meet the next morning. 

But the flat was so lonely and she really didn’t want to spend the night by herself.

Celia wasn’t completely sure what that feeling was. 

She stood up and gazed around the room. There was probably more work to be done. But she just didn’t want to do it. 

Celia grabbed her bag and headed off, locking the flat door. She walked fast, pushing against all the crowds rushing back to their own home before night set in and the spirits up and out from the ground.

She didn’t think about it. She just kept walking. 

The way to his apartment was all to familiar- how many times had she walked here before?

Most times however, he had been expecting her to come and visit him. He certainly wasn’t expecting to see her today. His eyes widened when he opened the door.

“Celia- What are you doing there?”

“I was lonely.”

Donald glanced behind him. “Oh, uh, do you want to come in?” 

“If that’s fine with you.”

He opened the door wider, and she walked inside. He took her coat and hung it up on the coat rack by the door.

“Is everything alright?”

“Oh yes, everything’s fine. Did I tell you Maria was gone?”

“You did, love. A couple times.”

Donald found the kettle and placed it on the stovetop. Celia slipped off her flats by the armchair. 

She walked over to his side.

“Did something happen?” he asked, finding the tea bags in the cabinet.

“No. I was just lonely. I missed you.”

She watched as he set the tea bags on the counter and opened the drawer. He always kept a pack of Choco Leibniz somewhere for her, and there was certainly a pack of them there now.

The water in the kettle was close to boiling already somehow.

Celia felt Donald’s hand drift to the small of her back and he gently nudged her closer. She couldn’t help but smile. They were pressed up tight together and all she wanted to do was pull him closer. 

She leaned up and kissed him, deep and slow. He leaned in and it seemed like it might last forever- until he let go. His eyes widened as he realized something, and he walked over to the window to gaze out at the dark sky with all its stars, and the ghost lamp blinking on and off.

“It’s past curfew.”

Celia stood there, frozen for a moment as she looked at him at the window. She just wanted him to come back over there and keep kissing her senseless. 

“Oh dear, it is past curfew.”

She walked over and sat down in a chair by the window, elbows on the table. “It is indeed.”

He looked at her. “What are we going to do?”

Celia glanced at him. “I don’t know.” But if she was going to be honest, she knew exactly what. 

Donald took a glance outside the window, and then back to her. Their eyes met for a moment. He looked sheepish for a moment and walked over to the kettle. He poured them tea and placed the tea bags into the mugs, and then bringing them over to the table and pulling the chair on the other side of the table next to her. It reminded her of when they first kissed all those months ago. He still made her feel all giddy inside. 

He interlocked his fingers with hers. He lifted them to his lips and her heart melted into a puddle. 

Celia leaned in closer and then recognition came over Donald’s eyes. He leaned away for a moment. 

“You purposefully came over to stay after curfew.”

Celia gaze at him for a moment. “I might have.” She reached up a hand and ran a finger over the collar of his shirt. 

Full realization appeared to have hit Donald completely. 

“Oh.”

He kissed her gently, and she leaned in, wanting something, something more. 

“Do you want this?” she asked softly. 

“Of course. If you do.”

Celia nodded, and kissed him.

Eventually they found their way to bed, and no one other than them was the wiser. 

* * *

They realized upon arrival it was probably a little too cold for a picnic date, and yet they did it anyway- they had already packed their basket and they’d already walked there. 

Celia and Donald sat close to each other, both wrapped up in their own coats. Their hands intertwined, and she rested her head on his shoulder. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He kissed her temple softly and looked out again on the park.

When the sun was shining, and there was so much happiness between them, how could they feel anything but warm?

* * *

Patrick and Donald were planning on making another trip together the following summer, to a few of the same places they went last time, but a few new ones as well.

That was all until Patrick fell sick. Donald rushed up to the town his brother was staying at to check on him. Patrick would be alright, just caught something particularly nasty, but the doctor prevented him from traveling for a good long while. 

Patrick stayed with some friends, insisting that he would be alright, encouraging Donald to go back to London. He’d gotten sick a lot at boarding school too. He’d always insisted as kids that he didn’t need his baby brother constantly looking after him.

Donald still refused to leave until Patrick was on the path to recovery, and when he was certain his brother would be alright, and Patrick had insisted him one too many times that he needed to get back to London, Donald bought his train ticket.

* * *

A couple weeks later Donald and Celia were sitting in the library, pouring over a few books they’d pulled from the shelves. 

Celia was entirely focused on the book she was reading- though she’d been stuck on the same page for a bit, pondering over a certain paragraph. Donald really couldn’t focus on anything. His brain kept flipping back to the conversation he’d had with Patrick over phone the evening before. 

Celia and Donald’s fingers were intertwined. He raised their joined hands and kissed the back of hers. She gently squeezed his hand, a recognition, a silent _I love you.___

_ __ _

“Celia?”

“Yes”

“You should come with me.”

Celia looked up from her book. She stared at him for a moment. “What?”

“Come with me on the trip.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Come with me during that trip over the summer. I talked to Patrick- he said either sell the tickets we have or find someone to go with me. He said he’s fine with it. We could go together. We’ve always wanted to travel together. ” Celia’s jaw dropped for a moment and she glanced away. Her fingers fiddled with the corner of the page as she processed what Donald had just said.

“If you want to go, of course,” Donald added hurriedly.

Celia found the words after a moment. 

“Then we go. If it’ll work out.” She smiled at him. “I’d love to go with you.”

* * *

They did indeed travel together that summer, to a whole list of places that Celia couldn’t keep track of. And if she was being honest with herself, she could really and truly get used to that. 

She filled up a notebook with everything she observed and reviewed it on the train ride back to London. There was something that had been on her mind since they’d been in Guinea, about the place they’d visited. 

“Donald?”

“Hm?” He looked up. Celia could tell he was about to fall asleep on the train ride. He didn’t sleep well the previous night.

She took a glance down at her book and her eyes quickly glanced over the notes. She desperately wanted to visit again someday. They were certainly onto something. “Nothing, dear. I’ll tell you later.” 

* * *

They finished up their current studies a few years later and, partially in celebration, Celia and Donald took another trip together, a shorter one, this time to Borneo for two weeks. They filled up two notebooks this time, doing research. 

They got back late at night, and Celia decided to just spend the night at Donald’s- there was no way she was getting back to her flat before curfew. She quickly called Maria, informing her of the situation. 

They reviewed all of their notes that evening, and didn’t go to bed until the wee hours of the morning. 

A couple of months later, Maria ended up moving to France for a little bit. 

“It was absolute hell to get the approval to move,” Maria had grumbled one day.

“You don’t have to leave.”

Maria had been wanting to live somewhere else for a while now.

“I’m tired of living in fear, Celia. I’ll be back. I just want to be able to step outside and not worry about the dead.” Maria held Celia close in an embrace.

“You’re all grown up now.” Maria smiled. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The flat was empty now, lacking Maria’s presence, except for a few of the things she had left behind. Celia’s paychecks from teaching classes got her through the bills, and it all seemed to work out.

* * *

A year later, her grandmother took a fall and fell ill the following autumn. Celia immediately went up to the town where she had grown up to look after her, and everyone else in her family, ones she hadn’t seen since she was a small child. It was some sign that the absolute worst was coming, and she tried to ignore that. 

She kept telling herself that her grandmother would get better. She would, she would. She just had to. 

But her grandmother wasn’t getting better. 

In some ways, it was like a horrible nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. 

Celia spent time with her in the afternoons, when it was warmest in the main room of the house. Her grandmother liked her rocking chair by the window, with a lot of blankets. She said she always felt cold. Celia knelt beside her. 

“I’m thinking about continuing my studies,” Celia said softly one day.

“What would you like to keep studying?”

Celia hesitated for a moment. “Donald and I were considering studying more about… ghosts. And all that sort of stuff. Or just, try and see if there’s anything to study.”

Her grandmother nodded contentedly, a smile on her face.

“I’ll always be proud of you, Celia.”

And Celia held her grandmother’s hands as she looked up. She gently rested her head on her grandmother’s knee, a quiet sign that she was there. And Celia silently wept. 

* * *

Celia was sitting upstairs in the bay window - she had helped her grandmother go back to lying in bed- when Raymond, her cousin, found her. 

A sense of awkwardness filled the room. They’d never gotten along, and the tension that was infused in the house as of late only increased that. She supposed in most cases, a terrible situation might encourage them to have a better relationship. It certainly wasn’t the case now.

“Someone’s here to visit you.”

Celia walked down the stairs and saw someone she didn’t expect to see standing there. 

Donald waited, a bag in his hand. He saw her, concern on his face, and she stumbled down the stairs. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“It was a bit of a last minute decision,” he said softly, as she willingly let herself be wrapped up in his arms. 

And she couldn’t cry now, even when everything was falling apart. 

“You called me last night.”

Celia couldn’t remember calling him the night before. She remembered calling him, but when that was, she certainly couldn’t remember.

“Please stay. If you can.”

Donald nodded. “Of course.”

* * *

The only member of Celia’s family Donald had met was her grandmother. Her extended family received him partially, except for a few circumstances. That was nothing new with them. Raymond had grumbled a bit on how it was one more person to deal with, so Donald stayed away from him at all times. Celia didn't blame him.

Seeing Donald there did something for her grandmother’s spirit, and she grasped Donald’s hand. She didn't say anything, but through the expression on her face, everything was clear. She was glad he was here.

Sleep evaded Celia and even though Donald was one to get to bed fairly early, he stayed up with her as long as she was there. She didn’t have the heart to tell him it was alright for him to leave, she’d be fine. She wanted him there. 

They’d been sitting together by the window that evening, his hand holding hers, a quiet comfort when the world was falling apart. 

Celia found the words she’d been lacking for hours. “Donald, I don’t want her to go.”

She looked towards him and his eyes met hers. Something happened for a moment, but she found herself in his arms as she sobbed.

Donald held her, not letting go. 

She was falling apart, shattering like a fine piece of china crashing to the floor. And yet she’d have to wake up and deal with it all day after day.

* * *

Her grandmother passed quietly in her sleep a few mornings later, Celia by her side.

The funeral was simple and quiet, what her grandmother would have wanted. Her favorite flowers were everywhere, the smell reminding Celia of her childhood, the same flowers that almost always were placed in the vase on the kitchen table. 

The house was quiet and empty now, even with so many people in it. Celia spent the rest of the evening sitting in the bay window, trying to find some resemblance of her childhood left.

She couldn’t find it. 

* * *

The house was going to Raymond and his fiancee. Celia was left with an unexpected sizeable amount of money, written in the will to be “for living expenses and other necessities.” Money to keep paying for the flat she had in London, and other things in the future. 

Celia packed up all the things she wanted from her childhood bedroom, and Donald silently joined her, helping in what way he could. It was mostly in silence.

There was regret deep down in her heart. That she had spent the last few years at university, away from home. What would she do for one more day, one more hour with her grandmother?

Her extended family was cordial. They always were, but she never did fit in. Had they ever particularly cared about her anyway?

She truly didn’t know anymore. She was pretty sure she didn’t need them that much anyway. Her grandmother she’d always need, but she didn’t have her anymore. Her mother and father were God-knew-where. 

Maybe they were still out there somewhere. But that was hopeful thinking. Celia wasn’t stupid. 

It took less than a day to sort through everything and pack up the things she wanted. She left that afternoon after saying goodbye. 

She was still wallowing in her own grief a bit. She was never like that at all, but she allowed herself this moment to be like this. Her heart felt entirely shattered. 

They got on the train together. Celia and Donald sat side by side, his fingers interlaced with hers. Nothing really needed to be said. He gently kissed the back of her hand. He was always there.

No words spoken, yet they both understood each other perfectly. 

* * *

Life went on. 

* * *

Donald had been certain for a long time that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Celia. Patrick came to visit for a week or so, and one morning he told his brother over breakfast.

“I want to propose to Celia.”

Patrick put down his tea. His face didn’t have the shock Donald was expecting, more a sense of _I-knew-it_.__

_ __ _

“Well, we all knew that, Don.”

Donald felt a heat rise to his ears. 

“I expected nothing less, is what I meant. You love her.”

“I think I love Celia more than anything.”

“And she loves you too. Have you talked about getting married?”

Donald’s mind raced for a moment. “Quite a few times actually.” It was true, they’d both mentioned it a couple times in the past year, in a sense of inevitability. At some point in the future, they would get married. 

He found the money and bought the ring a week later. It was simple and Donald got the sense that Celia would like it. The box sat patiently, waiting for the right moment.

* * *

The past year had been a quiet and healing one. Celia studied and worked and wrote with Donald, and put the money her grandmother had left her in savings. She healed, as much as she could. 

It was a cold, rainy day, typical weather as of late, when Donald came to visit her at her apartment one day, before they were going to go for a walk, a bouquet of all of her favorite flowers in hand.

When she opened the door to greet him, she raised a brow. “Is there an occasion?”

“Not any reason in particular.” But Celia knew him too well. He was hiding something- the way the corners of his mouth were upturned and how he fidgeted with his hands. He put them in his pockets. 

“Thank you.” She looked up and beamed at him. “They are beautiful.” 

She didn’t think much of it as she walked to her tiny kitchen and Donald silently followed. She reached for a pair of scissors in one of the drawers and went to cut the ribbon tied around the flowers. A ring was looped through it. 

And for once, Celia was dumbfounded and couldn't form the words she wanted to say. She stared at it for a moment until Donald came over and untied the bouquet, taking the ring off the ribbon, and slowly getting down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?”

Celia didn’t remember saying any words at all, just tears forming in her eyes, and Donald immediately stood up, panic written clearly on his face. “I’m so sorry, I-”

She couldn’t spit out the words, but all she wanted was to yell, _Yes, yes yes.___

_ __ _  


“Don’t be sorry,” she finally said. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

She reached up and kissed him. Donald’s right hand brushed her cheek and his other gently found the back of her waist, pressing her closer to him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. They stayed like that for a while until they finally let go and truly breathed for a moment. 

“I’ve been stressed about that for a month,” he said softly. 

“What else would I say?”

“I was a bit worried you’d say no.” He smiled at her. 

Celia reached up, standing on her tip-toes to kiss him gently one more time. “I love you.”

Donald took the ring and slipped it onto Celia’s finger. 

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “But I think you spoil me.”

"I’m quite alright with that.”

Donald leaned down and kissed her again. 

“Did you think I’d say no?”

“Wouldn’t anyone proposing be the slightest bit worried?”

“I suppose.” She looked up at him. “Donald, I am completely certain that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’ve been certain for a very long time.”

Celia wrapped her arms around him and he did the same as she pressed her head to his chest, where she could hear the quiet thumping of his heart. She hoped it kept beating forever and ever. 

_And please always keep beating for me.___

_ __ _

* * *

_ __ _

The wedding was a couple months later. They found there wasn’t much point in waiting, when there was just a handful of people they were inviting and no desire for a big wedding. 

Celia found her dress at an old store. She fell in love with it at first sight. She thought it was beautiful, even if others thought her choice was a little strange. But she tried it on- that dress with long-sleeves, the whole thing covered in old lace and white - and she knew it was perfect. 

Having come back from France, a couple months earlier, she became Celia's bridesmaid immediately. She didn't need any other. She pinned the veil into Celia’s hair the morning of the wedding and they laughed about the old days together. Maria helped fasten the necklace Donald had given her all those years, her something blue, so to speak.

At the actual wedding, Donald’s brother sat in the front row, beaming the whole time at both of them.

Celia, who always seemed to find the right words when writing papers and essays, couldn’t find a way to describe just how deeply and truly she loved him. And the way Donald looked at her made her feel like the most beautiful person in the world. 

They were pronounced husband and wife and he kissed her gently, and she slipped a ring onto his finger, and he slipped a ring onto hers. 

Afternoon and evening passed in a blur, filled with laughter and bliss with all the people they loved. They found their way to their room and stumbled into each others’ arms.

Celia absolutely and utterly loved him. And Donald absolutely and utterly loved her.

* * *

“You’re quiet.” Celia nudged him with her foot on the couch. 

Donald had been flipping through an old picture book of ghost stories, one he had teased Celia for buying a while back. They had brought to the cottage by the sea for their brief honeymoon. They had a good laugh drinking wine and sharing stories and spending time together. 

“Why did you buy it again, love?”

“Well, no one else was going to.”

In fact, the owner of the vintage store had given her a very strange look when she had bought it. Apparently, very few people were interested in buying books of ghost stories. 

“Well, we can make one up then.” Celia got up from the couch and set her wine glass on the little table by the window. 

“We’re surrounded by ghost stories, love.”

She walked back over to Donald and sat next to him. She swung her legs over his lap and kissed him. His hands found her waist, gentle as ever and she placed her arms around him. 

The book of ghost stories lay forgotten. 

* * *

A few months later, when their lives calmed down for a minute, they went on another trip. It was longer than the last trip, a bit of an extended honeymoon. They did plenty of research, talking with the local people. 

They went to New Guinea and Celia brought back a bunch of spirit-masks for their future home, wherever that would be. 

“Is there any particular reason why?” he had asked her.

Celia had only shrugged. “We need something to decorate the walls with, Donald.”

There were other things too that they brought back, and plenty more notebooks were filled with notes. All of those places had something connecting them, and they spent many an evening discussing it. They just couldn’t put their finger on it yet.

* * *

Donald and Celia bought a house in London. 35 Portland Row. Old and Victorian, the house was in desperate need of some love and care, but they both loved it and were willing to care for it as well.

They made do with what they had at the moment. The artifacts they had brought back from their last trip to Guinea waited in fortified wooden crates until the proper moment came for them to display. 

Others might call what they filled the house with junk- but it was their house and they’d fill it with happiness and love too. 

* * *

They gave their first lecture at the university that winter. It went well, and afterwards, during the cab drive home, Celia realized she truly could get used to a career like this. 

Donald had money, the small fortune left to him by his late parents, and she had the sizeable sum she had saved from her grandmother. But they’d have to find the money to continue researching somewhere. 

She rested her head on Donald’s shoulder as they sat on the couch in the library, where they had crashed afterwards. They really needed to go to bed. But one more kiss wouldn’t hurt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. <3 I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
